


Strip

by someonestolemyshoes



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, KageHina - Freeform, Lingerie, M/M, Smut, Strip Tease, University KageHina, aged up kagehina, based on art, bc i added the piece now that i'm less dead, fluff also because i can't help myself, lap dance, now includes art!!, rc art, reallycorking, reallyporning, sloppy blow jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 04:53:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7670872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someonestolemyshoes/pseuds/someonestolemyshoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You look,” Kageyama starts, and his face burns red - really, really red, tomato red, so red Hinata thinks something might actually be wrong with him - and then he coughs, and he chokes, and he rubs the back of his hand over his mouth. When he speaks again, his words are all muffled and rolled into one big ball on his tongue.</p>
<p>“You look incredible. Can you keep the stockings on?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strip

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY so I have been SO excited to post this for so long. Me and [reallycorking](http://reallycorking.tumblr.com/) over on tumblr have been planing this for MONTHS, and we're legit so stoked to give this disaster to u all so pls go forth and read and en joy 
> 
> (great big MEGA thanks to [Esselley](http://esselley.tumblr.com/) on tumblr for bein' my proof reader + reassurer that every word isn't awful, and also to [reallycorking/porning/WHICHEVER ONE](http://reallyporning.tumblr.com/) for being an absolute star and loving this and making the best kagehina smut art on the face of the planet honestly??? anyway hope y'all enjoy the read!!!!)

There are a lot of really, really great things about living with Kageyama. They get to share a bed, for starters, and it’s the best kind of cosy to crawl beneath the covers and find Kageyama beside him, and they can go and play volleyball whenever they want (unless they have classes, or homework, or work-work or some other very annoying, very grown-up obligation), and they can cook whatever food they like every day of the week and share showers and walk around naked, if they really want to.

And then there’s the sex.

Living at home, sex was difficult. There was never a good time for it - not _ever_ at Hinata’s house, because Natsu was always lurking some place or another and you’d never know where she’d pop out from next, and not with Kageyama’s mother working in the office below Kageyama’s bedroom.

They’d tried in other places - in the club room, multiple times, though it was never worth getting caught by the first years (or that one time by Tsukishima and Yamaguchi who, really, with their shirts hanging from their shoulders and their mouths latched like suckers, were in no place to judge), and in the bathroom at one training camp, and even outside, a couple of times, but nothing beats the novelty of having their own space.

And the best, _best_ part about it is, they can try absolutely _anything_ they want.

It’s one night on the sofa that Kageyama brings it up. Things are slow; Hinata is lying flush over him, bare chest pressed to his warm skin and the blanket curls low over his back, hides the bare curve of his ass from the moonlight filtering through the window. Kageyama breathes heavy into his mouth and Hinata rolls his hips, drags himself slow and steady over Kageyama’s length and he hisses, presses kisses to the corner of Kageyama’s mouth and squeezes the fingers laced in his own.

He says it with a light, airy kind of tone, and there are a few moments of quiet afterwards where Hinata whines, where his hips jump and Kageyama groans under him, and they come with panting breaths and heaving lungs, and Hinata drops his weight onto the mess between them and squirms against Kageyama’s chest.

“What do you mean, ‘try something new’?” He says. Kageyama is sucking air in big, measured breaths to stop his gasping, and each shift of his ribs makes the slick spread a little further over their skin.

“Like, something different,” he says, and when Hinata lifts his head to look at him, his face is blooming red.

“Why?” Hinata asks, and he sits all the way up, straddles his weight over Kageyama’s thighs and folds his arms across his chest. “What, are you bored?”

Kageyama shakes his head, hard. He’s struggling to keep his eyes on Hinata’s; they keep trailing, sliding down the line of his body and Hinata feels them burn into him where their mess is drying over his stomach, and they slip lower still and settle on the space between his thighs. Fingers dig into his hips, thumbs tracing smooth circles over the bone.

“No,” Kageyama says, voice low and gravelly. “It’s just been a while since we tried something different, is all. Like...a new position, or something. I don’t know.”

“So, you’re bored.”

Kageyama sits upright and knocks his forehead to Hinata’s.

“Dumbass,” he says, runs his nose along Hinata’s and his eyes flutter shut, leaning into the warmth of Kageyama’s breath, “I’m not _bored_.”

As much as a great big part of Hinata wants to argue - for the sake of arguing, mostly - the room is warm and it’s getting late, and Kageyama’s skin is soft and yielding in all the places they’re pressed together and an even bigger part of Hinata just wants to sleep.

He concedes with a grunt and a kiss smacked to Kageyama’s mouth.

* * *

The library, in hindsight, is probably not the best place to look up sex positions. It’s not like they’re on the wifi, so it’s probably okay, but each new page is definitely eating a great big hole into Kageyama’s data.

They sit in amongst the bookshelves, buried deep towards the back of the sport science section with thousands of books spread open over their table and a wall to their backs so nobody can sneak up on them.

“This one looks good,” Hinata says, points at the screen. Kageyama tips his head one way, and twists his phone the other.

“This looks _hard_ ,” he says, “can you even bend like that?”

“Oi!” Hinata shouts, and Kageyama claps a hand over his mouth. When he talks again, Hinata keeps his voice harsh and whispered. “Who says I’m gonna bottom? Why don’t you?”

Kageyama looks, for a moment, like he’s really pondering the question, and then he shakes his head.

“I’m a better top than you are.”

Hinata puffs air into his cheeks, slaps his arms folded over his chest

“Nuh uh,” he says, even though he knows he is one hundred percent wrong. Kageyama is _definitely_ the better top - not that Hinata isn’t _good_ , because he is, he absolutely is - but real, actual pigs will fly before Hinata will admit that out loud.

“Mhm,” Kageyama hums. He’s got that smug look in his eyes that tells Hinata he is just looking for an argument.

“Well,” Hinata says, “I’m a better bottom than you anyway.”

“No way.”

“Yes way. You can’t have both!”

“Can so.”

“This,” Hinata says, because he is only going to lose if they keep going, and there is nothing he hates more than losing. Except olives, maybe, but that doesn’t matter right now. “This doesn’t even matter. We need to find a new position to try before you get bored and leave me.”

Kageyama drops the phone to the table top and presses his face into his hands.

“I’m not bored and I’m not going to leave, oh my god. I never should have said anything.”

“What about this one?”

Kageyama twists the phone towards him.

“The butter churner,” he reads, and scrolls down to the picture. “No! No, what are you even thinking? I will kill you, _this_ will kill you.”

Hinata, honest truth, hadn’t even looked at the illustration. The name looked fun, is all, but as Kageyama turns the picture towards him he can see exactly why he looks so utterly horrified.

“Holy shit. Holy _shit_ no, not ever. Kageyama, we’re never doing this ever, promise me.”

* * *

It took over an _hour_ before Hinata found the perfect position for them.

He is probably flexible enough to pull off ‘The Lap Dance’, he thinks; they could maybe go with the easy route, back to front, but they’ve had sex like that before and Kageyama wants to try something _new_.

And Hinata has never been more excited in his _life_.

It isn’t just the position that has him revved (it isn’t the position at all, really), it’s the fact that a) Kageyama has let him plan the entire night, and b) he gets to dress up.

Not that Kageyama knows this, yet.

Kageyama also doesn’t know that Hinata is spending every spare second of his days either watching lap dance tutorial videos or lingerie shopping online.  

Kageyama _also_ doesn’t know that Hinata is going to blow his fucking _mind_.

* * *

Kageyama doesn’t finish work until eight o’clock. This is _perfect_ , because Hinata finished at five, and it gives him three whole hours to prepare.

There’s an awful lot to do. Hinata starts with the tidying; the room is a mess, as per usual, and it takes a good half an hour to hide everything well enough to make the space _seem_ tidy, and then there’s the decorating -- Hinata spreads every tealight he bought around the room, on every available surface. He wanted nicer candles, really, like the big fancy colourful scented ones but these were on sale for _nothing_ and, he figured, the more the merrier.

And then there’s dressing. His lower half works out _fine_ \- the fishnet stockings are simple enough, even if his toes _do_ get stuck in every hole as he puts them on, and the thong is easy (if a little uncomfortable) and garter belt isn’t _rocket surgery_ or whatever, but the corset…

The corset proves too much of a challenge.

After the single most embarrassing ordeal of his entire _life_ , probably, HInata shoos Tsukishima from the flat and strips out of his thrown-on pajamas and back down to his outfit.

He locks himself away in the bathroom just in time for the front door to open.

“Hinata?”

“Bathroom!” He says, and he listens as Kageyama drops his things in the main room and pads his way down the corridor. The door handle rattles. “Go wait in the bedroom. Sit in the chair!”

If Kageyama is questioning things already, he doesn’t do it out loud. His footsteps echo their way back down the hall, and they only stop again when the hinges on the bedroom door squeak.

“Shouyou,” he calls, and Hinata’s face bubbles into a grin. “What the hell.”

It isn’t angry or cruel or aggressive, it’s kind of...wispy, light and airy and awed, and Hinata hums from behind the door.

“Just sit in the chair! I’ll be out in a minute!”

It’s hard to keep the heels quiet against the flooring, but he manages to tip-toe his way to the bedroom door in relative silence, he thinks, because Kageyama doesn’t seem to hear him coming. He’s sitting in the chair, eyes dancing in the mismatched flicker of every candle, and his gaze shifts over the room until it finally, finally lands on Hinata’s frame in the doorway.

Kageyama looks...floored, honestly. There’s a loose kind of hang to his jaw, the part of his lips big and round and his eyes are blown so wide the colour is all drowned out. It’s worth it, maybe, to endure the pinch of his toes and the itchy, burning sting of the straps criss-crossing over his ankles, just to see Kageyama looking like this. There’s a big, bright flush bleeding out over his cheeks, staining the skin red, and Hinata watches the bob of his throat as he swallows.

Hinata leans his shoulder on the doorway. It’s hard to look casual with so little clothing and such a precarious sense of balance, but really, he could probably fall flat on his face and Kageyama might not even notice so long as the outfit stays on.

“Well?” He says. “What do you think?”

Kageyama doesn’t say anything. He just stares, and the blunt tips of his nails dig into the edges of the chair. There’s a smug sense of triumph bubbling in Hinata’s gut and wobbling a smile over his face - Kageyama can’t speak (he’s hardly even breathing, now that Hinata really looks at him), and even as he licks at his lips the skin stays bone dry.

“Uh,” is what he finally, _finally_ comes out with, and Hinata isn’t sure whether to be pleased or a little insulted.

“That’s _all_ you wanna say?”

Kageyama blinks, long and slow and there’s a glaze to his eyes as they travel the length of Hinata’s body. The longer Kageyama’s silence drags on for, the most self-conscious Hinata starts to feel. He looks silly, probably, and the stunned expression on Kageyama’s face is likely from pure shock and Hinata is beginning to think this was maybe the worst idea he’s ever had.

He’d be sad, probably,  and humiliated, definitely, if it wasn’t completely in his nature to pick a fight over anything else.

“ _Bakayama_ !” He huffs. His feet wobble on the platform of his shoes, and the edges of the corset pinch at his armpits and he can feel all the places where it is engraving little red welts into his skin. “I had to get _Tsukishima_ to help me get into this, and all you can say is _uh_ ? Do I look _that_ stu-”

“Tsukishima saw you? Like this?”

Hinata’s mouth snaps closed. Kageyama’s eyes have come into sharp, bright focus, and the pupils narrow so fast it’s like they’re squeezing him with them. Hinata nods.

“Only the corset,” he says, when Kageyama’s glare turns something like murderous. “I couldn’t get it on, it’s got so many bits to it. I got stuck, a little bit.”

“Why didn’t you ask me to help?” Kageyama says. Hinata cocks half his weight onto the doorframe and shrugs a shoulder.

“It was supposed to be a surprise, idiot,” he says. “I wanted you to be amazed, all like _gwah_ and stuff, you know? And I didn’t _mean_ to call Tsukishima. I called Yachi first, and Suga, and Kenma _and_ Yamaguchi and I didn’t expect Tsukki to answer the phone.

“Anyway! What does it matter that he saw me? If I look so...so _stupid_ anyway?”

“You look,” Kageyama starts, and his face burns red - really, _really_ red, tomato red, so red Hinata thinks something might actually be wrong with him - and then he coughs, and he chokes, and he rubs the back of his hand over his mouth. When he speaks again, his words are all muffled and rolled into one big ball on his tongue.

“You look incredible. Can you keep the stockings on?”

Hinata’s mouth bursts into a grin. He nods, bobs his head so hard it hurts, and stands himself up straight. His calves are screaming - he’s used to a work out, but the heels are using muscles he didn’t even know he _had_ \- and he thinks walking for much longer might really draw blood from his toes, but Kageyama is blushing and his eyes have gone all big and shiny and Hinata thinks he’d walk a million miles in them, to keep Kageyama looking at him like that.

“Okay,” he says, and he takes a couple of steps closer to the chair. They aren’t...impossible to walk in, but the shoes aren’t remotely comfortable, and Hinata doesn’t want to ruin his image by stumbling around. He makes it to the speakers to play the music, and he makes it half way towards Kageyama’s chair before Kageyama lifts a hand to stop him.

“Let me get a good look,” he says, like he hasn’t been taking a good look since the moment Hinata stepped into the room. “Alright. Take them off.”

Hinata blinks.

“Nuh-uh!” He says. “They’re part of the outfit, I can’t just _take them off_.”

“You’re gonna fall and _die_.”

“I won’t die!” Probably, Hinata thinks, but he might break an ankle, and then he’d be out of practice for weeks, _months_ , maybe, and honestly that’s about as close to dying as he’s willing to get.

With a reluctant kind of huff, Hinata bends to undo the straps. It takes a long moment of fidgeting and a little swearing, before he manages to pull them loose enough to kick the shoes to one side. He wriggles his free toes against the carpet, feels the fuzz of it tickle between the net of his stockings.

“Better,” he says, and when he looks up again Kageyama has this weird, warm kind of smile.

“What?” Hinata says. Kageyama shrugs a shoulder.

“You’re cute.”

Hinata puffs air into his cheeks.

“I’m not supposed to be _cute_ ,” he says, “I’m _supposed_ to be sexy.”

“You are,” Kageyama says, and his mouth fumbles a little over the words, “sexy, I mean. Sexy and cute.”

“I don’t know if you can be both.”

Kageyama just nods, eyes closed, like he’s somehow superior for knowing that you can be cute _and_ sexy at the same time and if Hinata weren’t so hell-bent on his mission to impress, he’d maybe start fighting. Instead, he files it away for later - he’s not letting it go, not ever, not until they’ve argued and he has won - and stretches himself upright, stalks the last few steps over to the chair.

The video said to _strut_ \- which is harder than Hinata had anticipated, even without the heels - and it takes most, if not _all_ of his concentration to keep one foot in a nice, neat line in front of the other. It’s hard to look Kageyama in the eye, honestly; he feels stupid, way more stupid than he’d anticipated, and he doesn’t like to think that Kageyama might be laughing at him.

But there’s no laughter, not that he can hear. There’s just the big suck of breath Kageyama gives when Hinata brushes a shaky hand over his shoulder, circles the back of the chair and skirts his nails through the cropped hair at the back of Kageyama’s neck.

He can hear the hitch in Kageyama’s breath when he stops behind him, runs his palms down the line of his chest, fingertips stretching towards the waistband of his pants and back up again. He can feel the heat of Kageyama’s cheek against his own, the pressure of it when he leans his face into him, and he can feel the twitch of muscles and the shift of ribs as Kageyama drags in a little more air.

It gives him a little confidence, the way Kageyama is jerking his breaths beneath his hands, and Hinata straightens all the way up and stills the breath in his lungs as he takes a few big, deliberate steps to face the front of the chair.

Maybe, he thinks, if the look on Kageyama’s face is anything to go by, he doesn’t look as stupid as he feels. Kageyama’s eyes glue to his frame, drag up and down the line of him, from his teeth where they’re catching his lip, to the corset, to the peek of his stomach and the belt and the too-small underwear and they linger over the stockings, big and glazed and utterly disbelieving.

Hinata can feel his eyes still on him, scalding into the skin of his legs even as he turns his back to the chair. Bending burns the backs of his thighs, but Hinata keeps his knees locked and tucks his body towards the floor, arcs his back like the ladies in the videos and Kageyama gives a muffled groan.

“Fuck,” he says, and Hinata twists to look over his shoulder.

“Good?” He says it like he’s teasing, like he already knows the answer, and Kageyama’s head bobs as he nods.

“Good. _Really_ good.”

The tips of Kageyama’s fingers brush the inside of his thigh and Hinata straightens, takes a few unnecessary, overly-swaying steps to turn back to face him.

“No touching.”

He says it because the lady in the video said it - multiple times - because really, he wouldn’t mind being touched, even just a little. But this is Kageyama’s treat, and if Hinata is going to do it, he’s gonna do it right.

Kageyama scoffs, but his hands clench down at either side of his thighs.

“What’s the point in you looking like _that_ if I can’t even touch?”

“That’s how these things work, idiot,” Hinata says. Kageyama opens his mouth like he’s maybe going to argue, but Hinata braces his hands on Kageyama’s knees and his jaw snaps shut.

“This would look better if I had boobs, probably,” Hinata gripes, presses the tops of his arms against the sides of his chest anyway, because that’s what he’s supposed to do. Kageyama shakes his head.

“This is fine. Perfect. Keep going.”

And Hinata does. He pulls in every bend, every sway, every shift of his body that he learned from the videos and Kageyama drinks it all in with his hands white-knuckling the edge of the chair. There are a few moves that leave him feeling a little too exposed - one particular bend stretches the limits of his flexibility and the ability of his underwear to keep everything where it’s supposed to be - and Hinata thinks it probably doesn’t look all that good at all, but Kageyama doesn’t complain. The only sounds he makes are groans and hisses and the odd muttered _fuck_ hidden under his breath.

Hinata sort of wishes he had longer hair. It’d be fun to flip it over his shoulder, maybe, because the guys in the videos seem to like that, but Kageyama looks stunned enough when Hinata straddles his thighs and drapes his arms over his shoulders and Hinata thinks he probably doesn’t need it.

“Is this okay?”

Kageyama hums, and his hands creep up towards Hinata’s hips before he stops himself, and curls them behind the back of the chair. Hinata grins, rolls his chest the length of Kageyama’s torso and peaks over his shoulder.

Kageyama’s hands are fisted together, held tight, and it sends a thrill of pride up Hinata’s spine.

“Is that a yes?”

Hinata rolls his hips, and Kageyama moans.

It takes a lot of effort to hide his fumbling as he reaches for the clasps holding his stockings, and he masks it by sliding his hands up and down his thighs until he finds the part he’s after.

Kageyama chokes when the clasp comes undone. Hinata can’t see his face - he’s too busy tonguing the lobe of his ear to take a peek - but he can imagine how he might look. Wide, hungry eyes, with his mouth open, maybe, or with his teeth holding his lip, or his jaw clenched so tight he might break it, and Hinata lets the mirade of Kageyama’s faces play in the back of his mind as he curls himself from one side of his neck to the other, takes his other ear between his teeth and works the clasps loose on the other leg.

Kageyama’s hands dart out from behind the chair. They settle on Hinata’s thighs, and the blunt nails scratch over the skin leaving little white lines in their wake. They catch over the stockings, drag the hems a little way down his legs before Hinata stills him with his palms planted over his wrists.

“I thought you wanted them on,” he says, and Kageyama gulps. The side of his head knocks into Hinata’s temple.

“I do,” he says, “I do. But not touching you is _killing_ me.”

Hinata smiles, nudges his head back against Kageyama’s and grinds his hips over the bulge in Kageyama’s pants.

“I know,” he says. “Not much longer, promise.”

The stockings slip a little way when he stands, but they stay on his thighs well enough. Hinata reaches under them with his legs spread, finds the string on his underwear and slips them a little way down his legs.

“Oh my god,” Kageyama says, and when Hinata looks up, his hands are pressed over his face. Patches of flaming red skin peek out between the gaps of his fingers, and he winks one eye to look as Hinata dangles the thong from one finger.

“Your turn.”

Hinata bends, undoes the first few buttons of Kageyama’s shirt. The skin beneath is flushed, too, and Hinata’s heartbeat quickens as he frees each new inch with every button. He gets halfway - the first few bumps of muscle are just starting to show - when Kageyama pushes his hands away.

“Your turn,” he says, and there’s something so desperate in it that HInata stills. “Definitely your turn, _please_.”

Hinata is half-hard, and it feels a little silly to stand with a free erection in stockings and a garter belt, so Hinata is almost glad to turn his back and sink to the floor between Kageyama’s legs.

The corset, as it turns out, is easier to undo than it was to put on. It takes one long, slow pull of lace to undo the bow, and just _breathing_ is enough to loosen it a little at the back, but Hinata doesn’t even get to start threading his fingers into the silk before hands are grasping him, yanking at his waist and pulling him up from the floor.

“Wha- Kageyama!”

Kageyama just grunts. His fingers relocate, dig into the bone at Hinata’s hips and he pulls him back, drags him over his thighs until Hinata is straddled over him, and then a palm presses between his shoulder blades and shoves until his chest is arched over Kageyama’s knees.

“You’re not supposed to touch.” It’s meant to be a statement, but Hinata pants it out over a needy kind of breath and Kageyama growls something in the back of his throat.

It’s jerky, the way Kageyama pulls at the lace, and he definitely pulls it all out too far, so far it’s  coming unthreaded from the holes, and he pushes Hinata to stand and tugs the whole corset down to his feet.

“Turn around.”

Hinata does.

Kageyama is breathing just as heavy as he is, if not more so, chest lifting and falling and Hinata watches the skin shift over the little pits and ridges beneath his collar.

“Come here,” Kageyama says. He sounds frantic, almost, and his hand makes a weak grab for Hinata’s waist but he ducks down, pushes Kageyama’s legs apart and kneels between them.

It’s not like giving blowjobs is his favourite thing in the world, honestly. The taste is still kind of weird, even after all this time, and Hinata isn’t convinced that anybody really _likes_ it, but it’s the absolute _best_ to roll his eyes up and watch Kageyama’s face as he falls apart.

He’s already looking good, now, with his eyes half-lidded and his teeth clamping his lip, and there’s sweat on his brow, curling the hair and sticking strands of it to the skin. He looks even better when his head tips all the way back, the long line of his neck stretched over the top of the chair, the angle of his jaw sharp and bruised by shadows jumping in the candle light.

He undoes the belt and works saliva around his mouth. Kageyama’s hips jump up off the chair, and it takes a hand pressed to his thigh to keep him still. The muscles beneath his pants are quaking, jittering with the effort it takes to hold himself in place.

“Easy,” Hinata says, and Kageyama lets out a noise somewhere between a moan and a whine.

“ _Do_ something,” Kageyama says. Hinata unzips the fly of his pants.

“Don’t rush me! This is supposed to be slow, Kageyama. You’re gonna ruin it!”

Kageyama huffs out a breath. Hinata can’t really blame him for being impatient; he’s hot and hard, even through the fabric of his underwear, and when Hinata pulls him free the skin is flushed painfully red. Hinata rolls his palm over the tip, smears the pearl of precome over him, and Kageyama’s whole body shakes.

“‘S good.”

Hinata licks his lips. They’re too dry, and he spreads a little spit over them and coats the rest across his tongue.

Kageyama looks _murderous_ when Hinata stops touching him. His head shoots up, and Hinata thinks he’s maybe going to strangle him, but he stops dead-still and blinks as Hinata braces his palms to the floor and drops his jaw open.

“Wha…”

“Fuck my mouth.”

Hinata has seen a lot of cartoons, and he never really thought it was possible for somebody's eyes to bug out of their head as much as they do on tv, but he’s getting a little worried that Kageyama’s eyeballs might really fall right out of the sockets.

It’s not like they’re never forward about this stuff (they’ve been together for long enough, honestly). But, Hinata thinks, the combination of everything - the clothes, and the shoes, and the dancing and the stripping and the words - is...maybe a little too much for him.

“C’mon,” Hinata says. His knees are starting to ache, and Kageyama is still just...just _staring._ “Tobio, c’mon, do it.”

Hinata curls his hands around the backs of Kageyama’s knees. He’s stiff, tensed beneath the fabric of his pants, and Hinata tugs until he shuffles his hips right to the end of the chair.

“Yeah,” Hinata says. His voice sits low in his throat, and it bubbles out on whispers and cracks and Kageyama’s eyelids flutter. The head of Kageyama’s cock smooths against his lips, and Hinata pillows his bottom teeth with his tongue and pants breaths over the skin.

“ _Shit_.”

Kageyama bites his lip and his hips push up off the wood, his length sliding along Hinata’s tongue until it teases the back of his throat. He is warm and hard and he sits still, for a moment, while Hinata hollows his cheeks and rolls his tongue, and then a hand creeps into the hair atop his head and grips, clenches and pulls.

It’s all moans, for a while, and Hinata fists his hands and rolls his eyes to watch the way Kageyama’s mouth falls as he works himself. He looks so, stupidly _good_ ; mouth open, lips wet and red and lined with welts from his teeth, and there’s a sheen of sweat building over the skin of his chest, settling in the hollow of his throat.

It’s good enough, watching him, but it’s _worlds_ better when Kageyama blinks and the black, blown glaze of his eyes sticks on his own. The rhythmic shift of his hips slows to a near stop. He stares, and Hinata groans around him; there’s a wet, sticky slick of saliva coating his lips and chin and his mouth feels swollen, jaw stretched and aching, and Kageyama’s hand slips to his cheek, the pad of his thumb rubbing over the corner of his mouth.

He starts up again with slow, deliberate slides, and Hinata curls a fist around the base to work the rest of him. His hand comes away wet and dripping, and as Kageyama thrusts himself deeper against his throat, Hinata drops his own hand between his thighs and rubs two fingers over himself.

Kageyama moans, _loud_.

“What are you doing?” He says, gaze trained on Hinata’s wandering hand.

Hinata shimmies his knees apart a little more. Kageyama keeps on watching, and the shift of his hips grows a little more jerky. They stutter and jump when Hinata  pushes a finger in.

It’d be easier with lube, honestly, but he doesn’t really feel like ruining the moment to grab some, and the mix of spit and precome does the job well enough. Still, it makes him grunt, and Kageyama’s thighs shake by his ears.

“Oh my god.” Kageyama’s voice is all whispy and breathy and just a little bit desperate. His hips sink lower on the chair, and the hand fisted in Hinata’s hair tightens its grip. “Gonna come in your mouth.”

Hinata pulls his head back - his lips slip off with a loud, wet _pop_ \- and shakes his head.

“In me,” he says, and Kageyama’s eyes roll _way_ back.

“You’re killing me.”

Hinata slides another finger in alongside the first and spreads them, resting his temple against Kageyama’s thigh. HIs breathing comes fast, and it sneaks little sounds out with it; drags grunt and whines from the back of his throat as he crooks and curls his fingers, and Kageyama’s hand closes around his own cock and jerks slow and steady.

“You look good,” Kageyama says, and Hinata nips the fabric of his pants between his teeth to muffle his moaning. “Keep going.”

“Mhm,” Hinata says, because it’s all he _can_ say. Kageyama is still rubbing himself and he’s still watching where Hinata’s hand is disappearing between his legs. His cock is leaking, dripping a steady line towards the floor, and every inch of his skin is on fire.

Kageyama doesn’t let him go for much longer. He stops him with a yank to his hair, with grabbing hands and pinching fingers that pull him up and off the floor.

“Can’t wait anymore,” he says. There’s a tightness to his voice like he’s choking, and Hinata steadies himself on shaky legs with a hand braced on Kageyama’s shoulder. “Lube?”

Hinata stretches to grab some from the drawer. Kageyama’s hands are dancing all over him, tracing every available patch of skin, and as Hinata spreads the lube over his cock Kageyama rucks the garter belt way up on his hips.

“That’s supposed to come _down_.” Kageyama’s hands are already arranging Hinata’s legs, pushing and pulling until one is hooked over his thighs.

“No time,” he says. He’s all _frantic_ , pushy and needy, and Hinata shifts to straddle his lap.

And then they pause.

“How do we…” Kageyama starts, and Hinata frowns. “How do we get _into_ it?”

“Should I put my legs up first?” Hinata says. Kageyama’s hand claws into the hair at the top of his head.

“No! No, stupid, you’ll _break_ me if you try and get it in like that. Just...just put it in first, and sort your legs out after.”

“But it’ll be hard!” Hinata whines. Kageyama slides his hands onto Hinata’s thighs. They’re warm and a little wet, and they glide over the free skin above the hem of the stockings.

“It’ll be easier than trying to get it in with your feet behind my _head_ , dumbass.”

“Don’t call me dumbass when we’re having sex, Kageyama!”

“If you’re being a dumbass I’m gonna call you a dumbass,” he says, and then adds, “ _Dumbass._ ”

Hinata sticks out his tongue. They don’t have time to argue, not now, not when he’s so hard and hot and desperate, not with Kageyama’s dick rubbing against his own, and he moves to lift himself over him with a huff.

Kageyama’s hands move to his hips the moment he starts sinking down. The stretch is a little much but it’s good, too, and Kageyama helps guide him down with one hand at his waist and the other cupping the curve of his spine.

“Should’ve prepared more,” Hinata says, once he’s settled back in Kageyama’s lap. Kageyama smooths a hand all the way up his spine, curls it around his neck and drags him close enough to kiss.

“We can stop, if you want.”

“It’s fine,” Hinata says. He rolls his hips, grinds his length against Kageyama’s stomach. “Just...just give me a minute.”

Kageyama does, sits still and quiet and laves kisses over his face and jaw and Hinata adjusts. It’s nice, so nice Hinata almost wants to keep going, but Kageyama’s thighs are starting to tense beneath him and he doesn’t want to drag things out too much longer.

It takes _way_ more maneuvering than Hinata had anticipated, to get into the right position. There’s a lot of grunting and hissing and griping - “Get your feet out of my _face_ , you’re gonna kick me!” - and they’re both panting by the time they’re settled, with Hinata’s calves resting over Kageyama’s shoulders.

“That was,” he says, and sucks in a breath, “so much harder than I thought it’d be.”

Kageyama just nods. He’s wound tight, Hinata can tell; even with all of the moving and adjusting, he’s rock hard, and with his body angled back the way it is Hinata can feel the twitch and throb of him right against his prostate. He hums, braces his hands on Kageyama’s knees.

As it turns out, there isn’t really an easy way to move. Hinata’s balance is a little too precarious for Kageyama to thrust up, and he doesn’t have enough leverage to thrust _down_ , and it ends up being an awful lot of grinding.

“Maybe we should have done this,” Kageyama says, and he pauses on a moan when Hinata clenches around him, “the _not_ face to face way.”

“I thought this would be more _romantic_ ,” Hinata says. It isn’t, really, because Hinata can’t fold himself up enough to kiss Kageyama while they’re like this. “Is it good for you?”

Kageyama nods, and Hinata smiles. Honestly, just about _anything_ is good with Kageyama, and the way he’s looking at him with his eyes all hooded and his face all red makes it seem like the best thing in the world for him, too.

Things escalate, a little, the closer they get. Kageyama always gets grabby when he’s close, and he does now, with his fingers pinching into Hinata’s waist and his hips jerking in tiny, fast thrusts off the chair. Hinata can feel the strain of his thighs beneath him, the hard threads of muscle bunching to bear his weight and he helps how he can, tensing his arms to push himself up and drop back down and the prods to his prostate have his toes curling behind Kageyama’s neck.

He comes with a cry, shooting over his stomach and chest and his body curling all the way in on itself and Kageyama follows after, his whole body shaking and his mouth open and silent.

Hinata doesn’t waste much time getting off Kageyama’s lap. He flops his way onto the floor and lies there, arms like jelly, and above him Kageyama slumps in the chair and rubs at his thighs.

“That was…” Hinata starts.

“An experience,” Kageyama says. Hinata snickers from his spot on the floor. “The outfit was good, though. And the dancing. We can do that more often.”

Hinata fingers the garter belt where it sits loose around his waist. The stockings have gone all baggy around his thighs, and there are crusted patches of fabric where things are starting to dry, but, really, they still look good.

Kageyama crawls off of the chair and flops his weight over Hinata. It’s comfortable, and warm, and even with the hard floor digging into his shoulder blades and the sticky mess leaking out between his cheeks, he doesn’t think he ever wants to move. He kisses Kageyama - really, properly kisses him, long and slow with nipping teeth and sucking lips - and Kageyama sighs, content.

“This,” he says. “This is good. Maybe we should just...not try new things for a while.”  

**Author's Note:**

> AAAAAAH okay i hoped you guys liked it as much as we did bc this was so???? much fun???? anyway like 90% of you probably came here from reallyporning on tumblr BUT if u didn't pls go look at her blog immediately right now and reblog the absolute MASTERPIECE that she drew to go with this i am dying 
> 
> (P.S. thank you so much to anyone who leaves comments/kudos or bookmarks, ur so sweet and i love you all and feel free to go follow me on tumblr @ someone-stole-my-shoes to cry abt kagehina with me!!!)


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